


Paris

by hmg621



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Greg's POV, M/M, POV First Person, Paris (City), Valentine's Day, summaries are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmg621/pseuds/hmg621
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble where Greg gets dragged to Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paris

**Author's Note:**

> The footnotes are Greg's side notes. Like a stage whisper. If that makes sense.
> 
> Can be read with or without the notes. But really, the notes are good.

Have you ever had your Valentine's Day plans completely ruined when you get summoned to the office of the government-secret-agent-spy-brother of the high-functioning sociopath you call a consulting detective? No? Well let me tell you, it sucks. I had big plans to spend my first Valentine's Day after my divorce alone, wallowing in self-pity and getting thoroughly pissed. But no. Instead I was told1 to go to Paris and chase after Sherlock and whatever he's gotten himself into this time.

Anyway, the case was boring. Well, not exactly boring. There was a murderer loose in the city, chases through side streets and alleyways, and an arrest on stage during the final act of some opera. Okay, so I guess it really wasn't boring after all. But it was no hallucinogenic hound coming to kill you.

After everything got wrapped up and Sherlock was on his merry way, I found myself telling the story to Mycroft2 over drinks. We were getting on, and it was getting late so he suggested we make our way back to the hotel. When we got outside, it was such a beautiful night; I actually convinced him that we should walk.3

"You know, I spent my entire childhood coming to France, but I've never actually been to Paris before this trip," I told him.

I was feeling giddy. Maybe I was a little drunk. Maybe it was just Paris breathing life back into me. I don't know. But something had me feeling fuzzy enough to start swinging around a lamppost.

"And before I never understood why everyone raved over it. But now I get it. Now I understand wh-"

That was when I really understood. Getting kissed next to the Seine. Under the stars. By Mycroft Holmes. Suddenly, all at once, I wholly understood why people love Paris.

"You kissed me."

"I did."

"Are you gonna do it again?"

"I could."

"But...?"

"But I wasn't sure how it would be received."

"Well the first one got four nines and a five, that damn Russian judge. So let's see what the next one gets."4

Oh yeah. I definitely get why people love Paris.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. He likes to think he asks, but he never bloody does.  
> 2\. If he was going to come anyway, why did I have to be here?  
> 3\. I know, right? Crazy! I think his car might've been following us though.  
> 4\. That next one got all tens and an invite up to my hotel room.


End file.
